From the Ashes
by EffulgentInara
Summary: In the aftermath of the HalfBlood Prince, a message from Dumbledore gives Harry a new direction. Spoilers for Book Six
1. Dumbledore's Letter

Disclaimer: I have no claim on any Harry Potter character - all belong to others 

**From the Ashes - Chapter 1**

Harry stood on the platform at the Hogsmeade station waiting for the next train to London. Hermione and Ron had already left for home with most of the other students and mourners, but Harry had explained to them his need for some time alone with his thoughts. Without Dumbledore, he was sure that he wouldn't be the only student deciding to not return next year, but beyond putting some distance between himself and the site of recent events, he had no plan for the future.

As he contemplated the tracks stretching away out of sight in both directions, reflecting on their quiet symbolism of his current situation, a hand on his shoulder startled him.

"Oh! Professor McGonagall." He sighed in relief as he turned to meet the Headmistress' stoic gaze. "You surprised me"

"My apologies, Mister Potter, but I had to catch you before you left. I think this may be too important for an owl." She drew a sealed envelope from her robes and held it out to Harry. "I found this in the Head . . . in Professor Dumbledore's rooms. It's addressed to you"

"What is it?" he took the envelope and looked it over with a familiar twinge of curiosity.

"I am not one to take liberties with others' mail, Mister Potter. Now if you'll excuse me, I still have some matters to see to at the school." Her stern expression melted into a smile for a brief moment as she unexpectedly threw her arms around him. "Do take care, Harry, wherever it is you find yourself." With one last brief pat on the shoulder, she turned toward Hogwarts as the train whistle sounded in the distance.

Some twenty minutes later, baggage stowed, alone in his compartment, the door locked, Harry broke the seal on Dumbledore's message.

_Dear Harry -_

_I well realize that I may not return from tonight's outing. If such is the case, then I have two small final requests to make of you. First, please contact a young woman in London named Seraphine Black. She has a favor to ask of you, and in return may be able to answer some of your questions about the path that lies before you. Second, I ask that you trust in her answers, though they may not be to your liking._

_-Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. - Do not judge too harshly, you yourself know that things are not always the way they seem._

Harry carefully refolded the letter and replaced it in his cloak. Far from bringing comfort, Dumbledore's words had stirred up an ominous flutter in the pit of his stomach. Most answers he'd received lately were not to his liking, and considering the general bent of Sirius' relatives, he was in no hurry to meet any member of the 'Noble and Most Ancient House of Black'. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, unsure of whether he wanted the trip to be over quickly or last as long as possible.


	2. Aftermath at Spinner's End

Disclaimer: I have no claim on any Harry Potter character - all belong to others 

**From the Ashes - Chapter 2**

Snape Apparated in front of Spinner's End , Malfoy's arm firmly in his grasp.

"Where...where are we?" Draco looked around nervously, still trembling.

"Safe. This place is Unplottable, only a few people know of it." He started towards the abandoned mill, dragging his former student behind him.

"Incancendio"

Candles around the room sprang to life, casting flickering light onto dusty walls and covered furniture. Draco stood silently in the center of the floor, until Snape shoved him roughly into a sheet-covered chair.

"Stay there." he snapped.

He paced the floor for a few long moments, muttering to himself and rubbing the bridge of his nose as Draco sat quietly and tried to absorb everything that had happened that evening.

"What...what now, sir?" Draco stammered.

"You will stay here, in this house, until the Dark Lord summons you. Do not leave until you receive his summons, even if another Death Eater should come for you. It shouldn't take too long, but there are rooms upstairs to rest"

"What? Just me"

"Pettigrew may be around here somewhere." He started up the narrow stairs from the main room.

"But where are you going?" Draco called up the stairs.

"It's best if you don't know."

Snape locked the bedroom door behind him and stumbled into the small bathroom to take a long look at himself in the mirror hanging over the washstand. The hippogriff's claws had left several deep gouges, mostly on his arms, though a thick line of dried blood was caked across his forehead as well. He dug a washcloth out of the cabinet beneath the sink and began to wash his wounds. A few charms stopped the bleeding, and he looked beneath the cabinet again for a moment until he found a large pair of shears.

He held the scissors in his hand for a moment, feeling their weight. With a deep breath, he took a handful of hair and started cutting. A depressingly short time later, he looked in the mirror again and ran a hand through his now-short hair.

A whispered word released the false bottom of the top drawer of the bedroom dresser, and Snape removed some muggle clothes, along with a wallet, keys, and a pair of wire-rim glasses. He quickly changed into a dark sweater and jeans, tossing his robes carelessly on the bed.. With a brief scowl, he put on the glasses, tucked his wand into one sleeve, and Disapparated.


	3. Success!

_Well, took me long enough - I just couldn't get back in the mood to write until after I saw GoF. I'll try not to be quite so long between chapters next time, but no promises ;)._

Disclaimer: I have no claim on any Harry Potter character - all belong to others

**From the Ashes - Chapter 3**

It was two weeks until Harry's seventeenth birthday, and there was nothing left for him to do but wait. He'd called Hermione as soon as he'd reached the Dursley's to set her to work on tracking down Seraphine Black, but she'd found nothing so far. He called her several times a week , but every time the answer was a resounding (and increasingly annoyed) 'not yet'. His belongings had been packed for the better part of a week, and his decision not to return to Hogwarts' next term meant that until Hermione's answer changed or his birthday rolled around, waiting was all that was left for him.

A brief glance at his watch showed the time as a quarter to seven - Hermione would be home by now from her summer job helping out with the office records at her parents' dental clinic. By now he'd called her so often he no longer had to look up her number.

"Hello, Granger residence..."

"Hey, Hermione."

"Harry..."

"I was just calling to see..."

"Harry, you call me almost every day to ask if I've found her yet."

"Yes, I know."

"And every time you call, I explain to you that Seraphine is a relatively common name in the wizarding world, and that I don't really have access to records of witches from outside England, and that if she's muggle-born, the last name Black might just be a coincidence, and there won't be many wizarding records on her anyway."

"Yes, I know."

"And if I hadn't found her just a little before you called, I'd be quite cross with you right now."

"Yes, I...what! You've found her?"

"I finally found a notice saying that Reichenbach Alchemy in Diagon Alley would be re-opening soon under the management of its new owner -- Seraphine Black." A note of triumph rang in Hermione's voice.

"Reichenbach? I've never heard of the place."

"I've been in once or twice. They specialize in the rarer and more specialized sort of items - not to mention more expensive. It's not the sort of place students or casual shoppers have much call for."

"Could you find anything else on her, how she might be related to Sirius?"

"Nothing. I went through twenty years of back issues of the Daily Prophet, and that's the only mention of a Seraphine Black in London. Even checking Sirius' family records didn't mention anyone named Seraphine who hadn't been dead for at least fifty years."

"Maybe she was disowned, like Tonks' mother and Sirius were."

"Possibly. The Blacks do seem to have a talent for disowning people very thoroughly."

"Are you free tomorrow? I'd like to talk to her as soon as possible."

"I'll tell my parents, and I'll meet you at noon as close as I can Apparate to Privet Drive."

"All right, I'll see you then."


End file.
